


Tumultuous

by mary_alina



Series: Tumultuous [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 05:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mary_alina/pseuds/mary_alina
Summary: War is a tumultuous place.Time travels' a bitch.





	Tumultuous

**A Shau Valley, Vietnam. 1968**

Apart from the low flying chopper, symphony of crickets and the quiet unintelligible chatter of soldier, the jungle night air was eerily quiet. A cool breeze swept through campsite passing through the canvas flaps of the makeshift soldiers’ sleeping quarters, causing the gas lit lanterns to flicker ever so slightly.   
Private David ‘Dave’ Katz of the 173rd Airborne Brigade or “Sky Soldiers”, was lightly snoozing on a small green stretcher. His exposed chest rhythmically rising and falling with each breath; the small set of dog tags around his neck tinkling, as they lightly brushed against each other. He had not long been reading Moby Dick before he fell asleep. Reading was becoming a frequent occurrence each night. Lately he’d been having trouble sleeping properly. The persistent noise of war kept him awake; whether it be the sound of artillery fire, the gurgling of diesel engines or just the mindless chatter of his comrades as they longed for life away from the war.   
The book slowly slipped out of his dangling hand and plopped onto the exposed dirt floor beside him. He’d let go of a large exhale and smacked his lips together slightly. He’d slipped a littler further into sleep and soft snores joined the chorus of the campsite.  
He’d only been in Vietnam for five months and specifically the A Shau Valley for three weeks. A practical shoo in, Dave had made friends relatively quickly – he was a pretty easy-going kind of guy and tended to charm those he met. Army formalities and routines had become second nature, and on the outside, one could assume he was fine. On the inside he couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness and fatigue. Each day seemed to blur into the last. The monotony of war was beginning to pay a toll on him mentally and physically.  
A slight mumble has just escaped his lips, when suddenly, the air became alive and electrifying. A large blue electrical cloud, similar to nebula found in space, appeared left of his bed, whizzing and whirring, illuminating the room. Not a moment later, a loud crack pierced the quiet of the tent, and a dishevelled body appeared out of thin air dropping to the floor hard, grunting loudly in the process.

Number Four, or colloquially to his peers, Klaus Hargreeves was someone who didn’t always think his actions through when he made them. His drive was purely the instant gratification he would receive from doing said action. This time was no different. He had been having the day from hell, literally. He’d only barely escaped with his life, after being brutally tortured and manipulated by two assassins wearing children’s masks. His rescuer, a young Latino detective had found him in a rundown motel after being tipped off he may be there, by a message left a crime scene earlier that day.   
She’d hastily cut him free from being cable-tied to a stained motel chair when he’d crawled towards an air conditioning vent in the wall next to the bed. The covering was missing its screws, and, in a moment of exasperation, Klaus ripped it off exposing a rather large briefcase inside. Without thinking and acting on the adrenalin fuelling his pure instinct to ‘get of out there”, he’d wrapped his bloodied and bruised body around the briefcase and awkwardly crawled inside.   
He wore nothing more than a beige bath towel around his waist, a pair of slippers and a black overcoat, he’d managed to crawl three feet or so of the metal air vent before he rammed the briefcase into the vent opening of the room adjacent. His heart leapt gleefully when it had dislodged easily. With one big heave, Klaus had managed to push the briefcase out of the vent and onto the floor. Following close behind he’d crawled out onto the floor. Hastily standing and unstable on his feet he made a dash for the door and out onto the small balcony, fleeing the motel.  
With each pounding step to the pavement he could taste freedom. Looking frantically around he’d located a bus shelter. Not ten minutes later he flagged he first bus he’d seen. Plonking down on a hard seat he turned and watched the motel drift into the distance. He gasped happily when the bus turned a corner and hugged the briefcase tighter. A kind-looking plump woman in dark glasses that came to a point on either side of her face was sitting opposite him staring at his towel wrapped legs. Klaus had given her a cheeky wink to which she smiled coyly back.   
Klaus averted his gaze to the briefcase in his hands, and turned it over right way up, so the latches could be properly opened.  
“Oh! Please be money,” whispered Klaus, closing his eyes.   
“Only money. Or… treasure. Diamonds.”   
He’d placed his bruised thumbs onto the little gold latches with the numbers: one, seven, zero above the left latch, and six, six, eight above the right latch. Klaus had paused for but a moment when he clicked the latches. This action did not have the desired consequence.  
Within an instance, had no idea where he was; or more specifically when he was. 

Klaus was panicked. He scrambled to sit up, clutching the briefcase. His environment had changed completely. Instead of the drab stained bus seats which sat mundane people and bright fluorescent lighting, he was sitting in dirt, surrounded by a dimly lit colourless room, no, tent with odd bedding and people sleeping. Looking around he noticed a person slowly sitting up on what he now realised was an army-style stretcher in front of where he sat. He gawked at what he saw.  
Dave woke sleepily to the loud noise and lazily propped himself up on the stretcher; a quizzical look etched itself onto his handsome face. A small dark brown curl fell onto his furrowed brow as he noticed the dishevelled man near his feet, staring wonderingly at him. For the briefest moment, the strange man cocked his head to one side as if to ask a question, when he was interrupted by the loud whistling of bombs exploding around the campsite.  
The dishevelled man grabbed the sides of his head in panic.  
“Incoming!” a voice screamed.   
“Go time, ladies.” A commanding voice from outside echoed through the tent. A young authoritative man dressed in khaki vest and pants, holding a rifle had entered the tent. “Charlie’s on the wire.”  
Perfectly rehearsed, the campsite was alive with a sense of urgency. Soldiers all around were gearing up in record time; helmets slammed onto heads, guns slung over shoulders, as they marched out into the unknown.  
“Move it. All right, go! Come on!” another soldier chimed in as a siren wailed in the distance.  
Dave jumped into gear. The enemy had finally made their move after several days of purchased peace.   
Klaus on the other hand was petrified. His heartrate was beating and throbbing in his ears. His palms had started sweating profusely. He was frozen where he sat. What the hell was going on? He wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He’d gladly be back on the smelly bus over this.  
“You got mud in your ears, boy? Get dressed!” it had taken Klaus a split second to realise that the authoritative man had directed his question to him. Like a bolt of lightning, fear flooded through him.  
“No, I’m—I’m not –” Klaus cumbersomely waved his hands his hands in a panicked, dismissive fashion while attempting to hold the briefcase with his forearms.  
“War’s not gonna wait for you to get pretty! Katz, get this man operational. And get him a pair of pants. Let’s go!” Abruptly cutting Klaus off, the soldier began barking orders.  
Dave obediently shoved a pair of pants towards the strange man, who was now rushing to stand.   
Klaus shakily started haphazardly pulling the pants up, staring wide-eyed at the soldier. He wanted to scream “I don’t belong here, there’s been a mistake!” but he couldn’t form the words in his mouth.  
“Do you think I have time to waste? Get him a gun!” The soldier was getting impatient with Klaus. “Don’t look at me, get those pants on!”  
Another explosion went off in the distance. A nearby soldier had, rather forcefully slapped a helmet onto Klaus’ head. The pressure to get ready immediately was causing him to struggle with the pants. Get on, god damn it!  
Dave was just reaching for his gun when he noticed the man fumbling. He reached over and touched his arm gingerly.  
“Hey man, come on. They’re only pants. There’s far worse yet to come.”   
Klaus’ head snapped towards him and he caught the small smile on the handsome male's face beside him. He’d finally succeeded in pulling them up, when another article of clothing was thrust into his hands. A khaki vest, with the sleeves removed. He slipped it over his arms and began buttoning it up. The weight of the helmet, which had started to slip over his face, was causing Klaus to become frustrated.  
“Buckle it up before you look down.” Dave started to garner some unpleasant thoughts about the man. Where did this guy come from? It’s like he’s never practiced standard gearing procedures before. The army must really be desperate if they’re letting retards in.  
Klaus was finally dressed a few moments later. The handsome male, now also clothed, gave him the rifle in his hands and ushered him to sling it over his shoulder and gestured hastily for him to move out of the tent. Klaus willed his feet to move and somehow, they were moving him towards the entrance. His head was buzzing, and recent sobriety was not helping. He’d reached the entrance and pushed the canvas flap aside; the cool, muggy air washing over his heated body, a welcomed relief.  
The sergeant started barking orders at the troupe – pack the essentials into the military vans, aid the injured into the buses and to move the move their campsite deeper into the valley. They would then set up artillery and commence their counter attack. Like a switch had been flipped, David Katz was all business. He started picking up the crates of ammunition and a production line formed. Clockwork clean up.  
Klaus bit his lip in panic and, cottoning on to the fact he was in the middle of a war, which one he didn’t know, and fearing that he might die attempted to mimic what everyone else was doing and began packing the campsite down. He was more a hindrance than help but seemed to blend in. He’d started to pull the tent down and was beginning to tie to ropes up. When he was younger, his _father_ had taught his siblings all manner of knots in the event they ever needed to tie offenders up. He snuck a small glance over to the handsome, dark-haired man he’d seen when he’d arrived in the tent. He sucked in a breath and resumed tying the ropes.  
Dave glanced up at the strange newcomer. At least he could tie pretty well. Maybe he wasn’t completely retarded. Something about him seem to ignite a small spark of joy within him. In that moment, he decided that he would attempt to befriend this man. As he loaded the last large crate of heavy ammunition, he made his way and began on the canned goods.  
It would be a long night. Perhaps they’ll walk away with only a few casualties.


End file.
